"And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. There is no other way. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son.
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